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Maybe I was blubbering so fast I didn’t make sense.
“Let’s even this up a bit, shall we?” I undid the buttons on my coat and flung it over a chair.
He was still a statue.
I pulled my costume dress over my head, careful not to take my wig with it, and tossed it aside.
Blake still had his hand around his cock.
Maybe he thought if he let go, the crazy trip he’d somehow slipped into would evaporate.
“Do you want me to leave?”
He sipped his wine, then shook his head.
“Good.” I bent over to remove my fishnet, but I wasn’t wearing any. In my haste to get up here, I’d forgotten them. No matter. According to the sign on the lobby counter, I had five minutes. I was pretty sure I was already at fifteen minutes.
Lucky for me, my perfect passion partner was practically naked. And if the decent-sized cock in his hand was any indication, he was ready too.
Blake took an enormous gulp of wine, and I heard him swallow. I strode to him, and as I gazed into his eyes, I wrapped my fingers around his glass, and he let go. I inhaled the liquid. The red wine smelled delicious. It was cinnamon and chocolate, designed to be sipped and savored by a fireplace.
I drank the wine and allowed the smooth liquid to warm my throat. I handed the near-empty glass back to him.
“Here . . . let’s make you more comfortable.” Bending over, I helped Blake out of his underpants, then I twirled them around my finger and flung them toward the bed. I unclipped my bra and did the same with my piece of clothing.
Blake smacked his lips together as if coming out of a trance. He let go of his cock and had another sip of wine. His tongue slicked over his lip, catching a drop of the Merlot. When he ran his hand through his dark, unruly curls, they flopped back into place.
An easel, set up by the enormous glass balcony doors, caught my attention. Upon it was a canvas with what looked like an ocean scene. My mind flicked back to the conversation we’d had downstairs. “Are you an artist?” It was a clever question to keep my disguise in check.
Maybe he was incapable of speaking because he nodded with the eagerness of a kid accepting a chocolate. “Mmmm.”
“Do you think you could draw me?” I ran my hand over my stomach, cupped my breast, and then rolled my nipple between my finger and thumb.
His eyes bulged, and he swigged the last mouthful of wine.
Blake was good-looking, and he had a nice body. His physique was no comparison to my Jamaican drummer or my sexy cowboy, but Blake was much more toned than my English groomsman. Blake did have decent muscles rippling his torso, but maybe it was his lily-white skin that detracted from the toning. If he had a bit of color, maybe he’d look sexier. His shoulders were still hidden beneath the robe, but I had a feeling there wasn’t anything magnificent there. Not compared to Holy Hotness, anyway.
I had to stop doing that. Jamaica and Billie were extraordinary. I should be grateful that I had the pleasure of feeling their magnificent bodies. Not be comparing them with other men. I had to appreciate whoever helped me with my crazy challenge.
Time to get excited.
I picked up one of the dining chairs, centered it in the room a couple of feet from his easel, sat down, thrust my breasts forward, and crossed my legs. “How about this?”
Waiting for his response was excruciating. For the first time since I started this crazy double life, I was under a time constraint, and all I could hear was an imaginary clock ticking in my ear.
“You still haven’t told me how you got in?”
“And you, Mr. Horny, haven’t told me if you can paint me?”
He cocked his head and smiled. It wasn’t quite that smile yet, but it was an improvement on the dumbstruck Blake that I’d had for the last five minutes.
I uncrossed my legs, put my hands on my knees, and eased them apart. “How about this position?”
His cock bounced out between the gap in the front of his bathrobe, confirming he liked what he saw.
Capitalizing on his arousal, I rolled my tongue over my finger and then slowly glided my hand into my panties.
Blake’s breath hitched, and he strode to the table near me. I was just about to inform him of my green belt status in karate when he lifted a large spiral-bound book off the table. He grabbed a stick of charcoal and pulled out a chair for himself. When he sat, his cock stood between his thighs. His swollen pink crown pushed through the outer folds of his skin, making a very welcome appearance.
